


Wax Bullets and Sugar Quills

by Ballyharnon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ballyharnon/pseuds/Ballyharnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two students plan to get up to some innocent fun, but their sweet-shop raid becomes a life-defining adventure. </p><p>(Warning: This is rated M and tagged with archive warning because of a minor plot point--the scene is not graphic, and this fic would otherwise be rated T and would carry no warnings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wax Bullets and Sugar Quills

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Now, Let's Not Be Hasty](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/118993) by Whitmans_Kiss. 



> This was originally written in 2011 to accompany art by whitmans_kiss, as a part of shaggydog_swap on LiveJournal.
> 
> My inspiration art for this story, right down to its title, reminded me strongly of themes and motifs from Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury. The story is about two young boys, frightening magic, and mutual coming-of-age, a beautiful and metaphorical romance told in subtext. I've tried to echo some of that in this little story.

_Jim knew every centimeter of his shadow, could have cut it out of tar paper, furled it, and run it_  
_up a flagpole--his banner._ \-- Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury

_Every moment of light and dark is a miracle._ \--Walt Whitman

  
  
Cloaked in shadow, he stared at Remus. The other boy sat in a plush armchair, the twin of Sirius', tucked into the alcove of the window and bathed in its autumn light. He sat still and serene, holding a book but reading the empty spaces.   
  
  
Sirius recognised what the other boy was reading without even having to glance at the cover; it was written in the lines of his body. Remus sat stiff, spine rigid straight, fingers so tight on the cover that his knuckles had paled somewhat. His lips were pursed tight, and there was a little crease between his brows. He looked like he was reading something disconcerting, something dark with secrets--something wicked.  
  
  
If it had been Sirius reading their favourite love story, he would have been curled protectively about the book's fragile body, with his cheeks flushed and his lips parted, for it was the story they knew, knew so well. It was light in love with shadow, winter with summer, life with death, and not a word of it was there in black and white. (It sometimes seemed they had lived it a thousand times already.) It hurt Remus to read it, but he did it anyway, repeatedly and with relish; it thrilled Sirius through all his bones and he never looked back, reading it cover-to-cover again and again in great hungry gasps. That their eyes had read the same words, from the same pages, seen the same things there and in one another, it was a little secret burning jewel to them.  
  
  
They may as well have been cut themselves from the creamy pages and the shadowy places between them.   
  
  
Sirius watched him read, stared hungrily at him. He existed to stare at Remus, had stared at him with such intensity for so long that it seemed he had saved up extra years of looking--it would do him good one day. When the other boy glanced up, looked around to return his gaze, Sirius smiled sideways at him.  
  
  
Remus closed the book, leaving a finger between the pages to mark his place. Sirius' face was flushed and he was leaning close, his long hair falling from where it was tucked behind his ear.   
  
  
"Moony," he said, with a searing grin, "do you want to have some fun?"   
  
  
Remus huffed a little laugh. "Who says I'm not?"  
  
  
"I want to sneak into the village," he declared happily. "Honeydukes' is having a special and it'll be over before the next weekend out." Sirius produced from a pocket a crumpled handbill. He pushed it towards his friend, and Remus took it in his hand. "Those wicked fuckers are raising the prices when the students are about, I've been saying it for years. We must expose them."  
  
  
"How long have you been watching me reading?"  
  
  
"An hour or so." He shrugged, regarding the book in Remus' hands. "I wanted to show you that." Sirius leaned down, closer, and slipped his finger in, against Remus'. He tugged the book from the other boy's unresisting hands. "Didn't want to interrupt, though," he said as he opened the pages, read the words-- _the empty coffin of ice_. He shivered, though he couldn't have said why.  
  
  
"Get your robes off then," Remus drawled over his shoulder, contemplating the Honeydukes' handbill. "Can't sneak out in  _that_ , can you?"  
  
  
He hurried to comply, swept his school robes off and dashed them to the floor as he crossed to his trunk, rummaged for a jumper. Remus was dressed casually enough, out of his uniform already. The little book lay abandoned on the chair.  
  
  
"It really is too bad Peter and James are stuck in detention this afternoon," Remus mused. "I'm sure they would have liked to come along."  
  
  
Sirius gave him an amused look; he smiled crookedly back.   
  
  
They moved swiftly through the corridors, breath coming rapidly as they trotted down stairs and dodged around corners. They found themselves in one of the dark tunnels that led to Hogsmeade, wedged behind a statue of a strange hunched figure. It was tight; they were still panting, and Remus' fingers were clasped steely around his wrist as they moved. Both boys had to step sideways between the close stone walls for long minutes before the tunnel widened and they could stand side-by-side. Remus drew his wand and lit it with a murmur. His hand shook, and his breathing was heavy.  
  
  
"Are you scared?" Sirius teased. "We've done this before."  
  
  
Remus rolled his eyes at his friend. "It's only the moon," he said, a little gruff. "Idiot."  
  
  
"Lunatic."  
  
  
They laughed together. Sirius picked up speed, began to run down the long, slow slope in the darkness, and Remus hurried to keep up.  
  
  
The boys came to a place where the tunnel widened into a rough-hewn chamber, pitch-black all around, for the walls were too far off to be caught in the glow of the light from Remus' wand. Sirius was far enough in front of him that he was only a blur of black against further black. "Wait," Remus breathed, impulsive. "Wait for me."  
  
  
"Come  _on_ ," Sirius teased him. The thunk of boots on wood announced that Sirius was ascending the rickety steps that led up to the trapdoor. Remus caught him there and his hand came forward to touch the other boy's waist. His fingers caught at the hem of Sirius' jumper and moved there, just slightly. He could feel Sirius trembling, or perhaps he was only breathing heavily.  
  
  
"Why did you stop?" Remus breathed into his friend's shoulderblades. Sirius looked back over his shoulder, smiled a little, and began to move again.  
  
  
He pushed the trapdoor up, and he would have moved up into the cellar of the sweet shop then, but he saw something that made him gasp and retreat, letting the door settle silently again above them.  
  
  
"What is it?" Remus asked, voice a tiny susurration that was too soft to be called a whisper. He crept farther up the steps, sliding his body against Sirius' in the small space, so that he could peer out into the cellar as well.  
  
  
"Hush," Sirius breathed at him, just before he lifted the door and peeked out.  
  
  
For the briefest moment, Remus couldn't comprehend what he saw; a tall black shape leaning against the railing of the sturdier steps that led into the shop, fluttering of cloth, a splash of bright blonde hair, moving rhythmically. As soon as he got a good look, his face flushed red and he ducked back into the darkness with Sirius.  
  
  
"They oughtn't to be long," Sirius whispered placatingly, with a hint of a smirk.  
  
  
"It's perfectly indecent," Remus murmured with a hint of fastidious primness, and then he clarified, "That girl handles my liquorice!"  
  
  
Sirius snorted a small laugh at this, and, in the darkness, leaned closer, fondly pressing his shoulder to his friend's chest. Remus exhaled gustily, and the two waited there, somewhat uncomfortable. They could hear the small sounds of the pair above them, and the whole thing struck Remus as rather like a theatre; the performers, lit from above, and the audience, below, in the darkness.  
  
  
He told himself sternly that he couldn't hear and feel the quickening of Sirius' breath against his front. After some moments, Sirius put his hand up, as if to push the trapdoor up again for another peek, but Remus batted gently at his hand. They traded rebellious glares for a moment; Sirius leaned closer and stuck out his pink tongue, which resulted in a small, quiet scuffle.  
  
  
By the time the two boys had settled the matter and recovered, Sirius was panting and had his head tossed back just-slightly, showing the long column of his windpipe, and Remus was shifting away and sucking in deep, steadying breaths. The sounds of muffled pleasure had ceased.  
  
  
Remus clambered over his friend to check if the way was clear. "Ow," Sirius breathed at him.  
  
  
The blond girl and the fellow in the black robes had gone away, and the light in the cellar was almost gone again, just pale grey afternoon filtered through the small and dust-caked windows. Remus crept up out of the passage. Sirius followed him close, hands casually dropping here and there upon the other boy.  
  
  
"Who do you suppose he was?" Sirius whispered as they moved towards the hatch that opened from the cellar to the street behind the shop. He sounded as though it had only just now occurred to him to wonder.  
  
  
Remus shrugged, unconcerned.  
  
  
"That was Abigail," Sirius continued, worry in his voice. The girl was the daughter of the proprietor, a shy and modest country girl, and though she was no longer in school she was young, not much older than they. The man was strange to them, and quite old, and Sirius now suspected something was wrong.  
  
  
"It isn't any of our business," Remus insisted, voice still low, as he cast  _alohomora_  on the cellar door. He sounded unconvinced of his own words, however.  
  
  
"Moony," he started to say, but as they moved up onto the street, they saw a group of men, standing just at the corner. All of them wore black robes as well, and by they way they stood they were waiting for something. Remus and Sirius shut the door quietly and crept away, and as soon as they were out of sight of the strange men they flew like kites down the backstreet.  
  
  
"Something  _is_  wrong," Remus hissed, convinced now.  
  
  
They came into The Three Broomsticks, just up the way, by the door that let into the same alley. With a cheerful wave at Rosmerta, who was always a little amused to see certain charming or sweet-natured students on days when she shouldn't, they clomped noisily through the pub and out again by the front door. Miss Hooch, who was less well-disposed to rule-breaking, was seated at the bar with a dear friend, but the boys, in their hurry, didn't see her.  
  
  
Sirius clasped Remus by the wrist and pulled him along the centre-street in the direction they had come. He was laughing merrily, as if nothing was the matter. Maybe a ruse, maybe nerves. Either way, Remus couldn't help but smile crookedly and quicken his steps to keep up. More black-robed figures stood outside Honeydukes, looking ominous and out-of-place, but they weren't on guard, they were only waiting for their master. They would have responded to a threat, but they would never have looked for one in Remus and Sirius, two smiling lads running full-tilt into a sweet shop.  
  
  
One Death-Eater put out a half-hearted hand as if to stop them going inside, but was far too slow, and shrugged helplessly at his compatriots. He peered in through the glass.  
  
  
The front room of the shop was empty. "Hullo!" Sirius shouted impulsively. They drew their wands.  
  
  
A small sob sounded from behind the till; they moved towards it. (The Death-Eaters outside exchanged glances when the boys moved behind the counter.) Abigail was curled there, and Sirius called her name as Remus laid a comforting arm around her shoulders, a little awkward for she was taller and older than he, by a bit.  
  
  
The two boys helped her up and bustled her into the cellar. Remus lifted the trapdoor and said hurriedly, "The tunnel leads to Hogwarts; you'll be safe there."  
  
  
"Quickly!" Sirius hissed at her, blotting the tears from her cheeks with his cuff.  
  
  
She nodded at them, set her jaw, and descended into the tunnel, lighting the way with her hastily-retrieved wand. "That man," she told Sirius, "he's in the back room with Father."  
  
  
"Don't worry about a thing," Sirius replied, settling the trapdoor back into place. He was on his feet immediately. They rushed back up the steps into the shop, and Sirius would have gone straight into the back room, but Remus put out a hand to clutch at his sleeve. "Sirius, stop--stop, we mustn't be hasty."  
  
  
"We have to help Mister Honeyduke," Sirius insisted, pulling at his friend's forearm.  
  
  
"Yes, but--" But they didn't have a choice. The door was opening, and the Death-Eaters were about to come through it.  
  
  
There was a hiss which Remus thought sounded like a little bonfire-night rocket, and then another, and then red flares were erupting amongst the Death-Eaters in the street. The black-cowled figure in the doorway turned, more pressing concerns on his mind than the two young boys who might interrupt his master.  
  
  
Sirius charged into the back of the shop, Remus on his heels.  
  
  
The small office there was stacked high with cartons of sweets, so brimming with confections that there was barely any room for the small desk and the chairs which faced it. Alexander Honeyduke sat in one of these chairs, a dazed expression clouding his face, and in the centre of the small room stood a tall and terrifying man. He wore robes of exotic cut and there was a sort of smooth deformity to his features, though in the coming years he would look far stranger than this. There was a moment of shock all around; the only person able to react was Mister Honeyduke, who turned glassy eyes on Remus and Sirius and, just barely, registered surprise.  
  
  
Remus found himself staring, almost hypnotised by the tattoo which danced upon the stranger's forearm. The sinuous curve of the illustrated snake doubling back upon itself made him think strange things.  
  
  
" _Reducto_!" Sirius shouted. Remus braced for the counterattack which would simply have to overpower them, but instead a warm scent of caramel and black powder assaulted his senses as boxes toppled and sparked. Gooey mess overflowed from the cartons as they fell over the two men; Sirius had aimed not for their enemy, but for the sweets stacked behind him. Mister Honeyduke laughed vaguely and the sinister stranger dropped a string of faux-posh expletives as he tried to shield himself from the sticky mess.  
  
  
The bright hissing which Remus had heard from the street drew nearer and louder, and the strange villain apparated away with a loud  _crack_.  
  
  
Remus beamed at his friend. "Sirius Black," he said, gripping the other boy's arm again, "you are an absolute  _genius_!"  
  
  
"I--well, maybe a little," Sirius said with a smirk. They shared a glance which was not as long as it seemed.  
  
  
"Now who are these little ruffians?" came a woman's voice, hoarse and hoary. A sturdy and somewhat aged witch stepped into the back room, with Miss Hooch peering over her shoulder. She regarded Sirius with mild disgust. "A Black--one can always tell a Black. And he's a stupid one, I suspect," she continued behind her hand to Miss Hooch when Sirius only stared at her, wide-eyed and tight-lipped. She peered down her nose at Remus. "Muggle-born, yes? I can tell by the posture."  
  
  
She gave him a smack on the chest, and Remus straightened automatically to his full height, too startled even to correct her.  
  
  
"Muriel, dear, don't be such a cunt," Miss Hooch told her quietly. The older woman peered at her, feigning affront. Miss Hooch ignored her, though, and turned to the boys, stern. "Fifty points from Gryffindor--each!" she snapped at Remus and Sirius then. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it was to come in here alone? To sneak off of school grounds in a time like this, for that matter? You should have known better, the both of you!"  
  
  
Remus looked down at his feet. Sirius started to protest, but was cut off by a jab of his friend's elbow.  
  
  
"You ought to have come for help," the gamesmistress went on, her voice softening, and both boys nodded, contrite, though Remus suspected that Sirius would still cry that it was an emergency, if he hadn't had such sharp elbows. "All the same," Miss Hooch said, nodding to Mister Honeyduke, who was coming round again and shaking his head as if to clear it, "you've quite saved the day. Fifty points to Gryffindor--each." No reward really, but no punishment either. "Now you two get back to wherever it is you belong while we sort this mess, and I don't want to catch you sneaking out again! Don't think you've got away with anything, either, I'll be having a word with the Headmaster about the two of you when I return," she added ominously.  
  
  
The boys each muttered a quick "Yes ma'am!" and dodged past Muriel, through the shop, and up the street. With all the commotion about Honeydukes', it was unsafe to use that passage.  
  
  
"Let's go to the shack," Remus called ahead as they ran as quickly as they could from the sweet shop, from the unconscious bodies still scattered in front of it, and from the gamesmistress and her odd friend. Their hearts pounded in their ears and the chilly autumn air stung their faces and painted their cheeks pink.  
  
  
Once inside the rickety old house, the boys shut the front door behind themselves and leaned back upon it, panting, maybe trembling just a little. Sirius leaned close to him again, pressing his face down towards Remus' shoulder.  
  
  
"Can you believe what we just did?" Sirius said, grinning a searing grin into the off-white material of Remus' shirt.  
  
  
"No," Remus said, almost-giddy as he leaned closer too, "I really can't!" He could feel Sirius' hair against his mouth and nose. It smelled of red-and-orange leaves and sugar quills, and a scent that was no longer quite a boy's.  
  
  
"Do you think we could be aurors?" Sirius mused wistfully. "You and me? Together?"  
  
  
Remus clasped his hand in the darkness. It trembled slightly in his grip. "You know, I think we could. We could certainly try."  
  
  
"Yeah?" Sirius said.  
  
  
"Mm-hm," Remus confirmed, and then he turned so that he faced Sirius more fully. He was startled by how close they were. They breathed one another's breath, and their lips could have been pressed together if only Sirius wasn't holding his head at such a strange angle. "There's something else we could try," Remus murmured then, ever-so-slightly shy.  
  
  
Sirius tilted his head.  
  
  


...

  
  
  
Quite some time later, the two boys found themselves in the same pair of armchairs, in the same cozy niche. Sirius held the battered book in reverent hands, idly turning pages, and Remus was unwrapping a bit of chocolate. Their two friends entered the dormitory, looking dusty and tired from their exertions in detention.  
  
  
James laughed at the satisfied smirk each of his friends wore. "Where have you two been?" he asked. "Planning something fun, were you?"  
  
  
Peter stole a sugar quill from the cache of treats which had mysteriously appeared in their dormitory at some point during the lecture on responsibility and safety which the Headmaster had sternly delivered. "It's not nice to leave us out," he teased.  
  
  
Remus smiled coolly at them, and Sirius, with a sideways glance at his friend, tried unsuccessfully to contain his laughter. "Actually, Wormtail, we'd never think of it."  
  
  
"Padfoot's right," Remus said. "We were very firm on that point. You two would have been along with us if it weren't for that trick with last week's post, after all."  
  
  
"On what point?" James asked. "Along with you  _where_?"  
  
  
Sirius pulled James close and slung an arm over his shoulder. "Don't worry, Prongs. Of course we told Professor Dumbledore that we wouldn't even  _think_ of joining up with his secret group of Aurors unless the two of you were in as well."  
  
  
"Though I'm not certain we actually changed his mind," Remus said with a sly smile. "Something tells me that was the plan all along."  
  


 


End file.
